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ADDRESS 



DELIVERED BEFORE 



THE LITERARY SOCIETIES 



AT THE 



W A K E FORE S T I N S TITU T E. 



NORTH CAROLINA, 



Nov, 24tlvi.836: 

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BY T\ TMERDfm 



Of W H S y 



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Wake Forest Institute, November 25th, I&oO*. 
Reverend and Dear Sir, — 

At a called meeting of the Philotnathesian Society last evening, the fol- 
lowing resolution was unanimously passed ; viz. 

" Resolved, That this Society is highly gratified with the appropriate ad 
dress of its honorary member, the Rev. Thomas Meredith, before the two So. 
cieties ; and that our Committee be instructed to tender to Mr. Meredith the 
thanks of this Society, and to request a copy for publication." 

With high considerations of respect, 



REV. T. MEREDITH. 



JAS. C. DOCKERY, ) 

JOSHUA J. JAMES, } Committee. 
E. F. JOHNSON, ) 



Wake Forest Institute, Nov. 25th, 1836. 

It is asource of much gratification to me, to know that the address allud- 
ed- to in your communication, has received your approbation and that of the 
Society of which you are members ; and as I am aware of no sufficient reason 
why your request should not be complied with, I need only say that the manu- 
script shall be at your disposal. 

With much respect, &c. 

T. MEREDITH. 
Jas. C. Dockert, ) 
Josh. J. James, > Committee, 
Ea-tfD. F. Johnso*. J 



4 



A I) D R E S S. 



Young Gentlemen, — 

In addressing you on the present occasion, I shall submit a few practi- 
cal thoughts, designed to facilitate the pursuits in which you are here en- 
gaged. Your object in coming to this place is, or should be, to lay the 
foundation of a substantial, useful, and accomplished education. Accor- 
dingly, every thing calculated to favor the attainment of this object — ev- 
ery thing tending to impart pleasure or success to your studies, or serv- 
ing to excite to increased effort in the acquisition of knowledge, must be 
more or less worthy of your attention. And although ,1 can certainly 
promise you but little, yet I trust that my motive will be duly esteemed, 
and that my attempt will not be wholly unsuccessful. 

The. importance, the practical value, of a first rate education, though es- 
sentially fundamental in a discussion like the present, is a topic on which 
I shall not now insist. Indeed if this were deemed requisite, I have not 
the time at command to do the subject justice. I shall therefore content 
myself with presenting a few considerations, which are apt to operate as 
discouragements to the student on the one hand ; — and a few which may 
be regarded as matters of encouragement and improvement on the other. 
Of the former, perhaps the first in the order of time not less than in 
' the magnitude of its results, is a supposed want of talent — an imaginary- 
deficiency in the gifts of nature. I can conceive of nothing more chill- 
ing to the ardor of a youth eager in the pursuit of knowledge, than to see 
himself easily outdone by his inferiors in point of advantage. And yet 
this is a mortification to which many are subject who are by no means 
wanting in intellectual endowment. This apparent deficiency may be 
owing to various causes. It may be owing solely to the defects of early 
education. It may be an evil growing out of misapprehension respecting 
the use of books and the most eligible modes of study. It may be owing 
to the defects of a weak and undisciplined memory. And it may arise 
entirely from tardiness of developement on the part of the natural func- 
tions. But in all such cases, the evil, however discouraging, is by no 
means irremediable. Dilligence and perseverance will, sooner or iater, 
overcome it. The defects of early education may be supplied. Errone- 
ous method in the order of study and in the use of books, may be correct- 
ed. The memory may be improved. The powers of intellect, where 
they exist, may be elicited and matured. And the delays and discourage- 
ments of youth, may he more than compensated bv the renovated vigor 



and thesplejadid acquisitions oflater years. As conclusive proof oi in,. 
1 need only mention the well known fact, that the most unpromising child- 
hood is often succeeded by the most brilliant attainments in mature life : 
while, on the other hand, those farthest advanced at the outset, are often 
left farthest behind in the end. 

Let me not be understood to say, however, that there are no instances 
iu which talent is really wanting. Nor do I mean to say, that where 
talent is wanting, the defect can be supplied by application. What I say 
is, that the most untoward indications in early life, are no necessary proof 
that nature has failed to do her part ; and, accordingly, that such indica- 
tions, however mortifying, should never be allowed to cool the ardor of 
vouthful enterprise, nor to weaken the energies of virtuous ambition. Let 
every one therefore who imagines that nature has been frugal in his be- 
half, redouble his efforts. And for his encouragement, let hirn bear in 
mind the well known case of Demosthenes, who, notwithstanding his 
manifold deficiencies in the endowments of nature, gradually surmounted 
every obstacle, and eventually rose to a point of pre-eminence, perhaps 
uneaqualled by succeeding generations. 

Another source of discouragement not unfrequently to be encountered, 
is a icant of taste for study. This is sometimes the effect of downright 
indolence ; but it is more frequently to be ascribed to the defects of edu- 
cation, and other similar impediments in the way of successful effort. — 
A x o one can find pleasure in pursuits in which he meets with no success. 
But be the cause what it may, the evil is a real one ; and one which, if 
not seasonably overcome, must be followed by disastrous consequences. 
If success in any pursuit be essential to the existence of a taste for such 
pursuit, so on the other hand, there can be no lasting or valuable success 
where there is not a taste — a keen and insatiable appetite for the object 
or exercise pursued. No artist ever yet distinguished himself in his de- 
partment, who had not a fondness for his occupation. And no student 
ever applied himself to his books, to any valuable purpose, so long as such 
application was a task. Let a man become an enthusiast in his profes- 
sion, and eminence is almost certain. So let the student repair to his 
studies with the eagerness with which he repairs to his meals, and rapid 
advancement will be the consequence. The philosophy of this is obvi- 
ous. What is done with pleasure — as a means of gratification — is sure 
to be done well. And what is done well — with becoming attention and 
perseverance — is nearly certain to be attended by success. 

Let no one despond, however, because he lacks this essential qualifica- 
tion. The errors and defects of rudimental education, may be overcome. 
Perseverance, while it leads to the formation of salutary habit, will also 
surmount the obstacles which lie in the way. And as the impediments 
to success are surmounted, and the habit of application becomes easy, 
difficulties will Vanish — tbat which was at first unsavory, will become 



....-._;; (hi : .-' . ad th; which i - c — : 

eventually become the means of gratification and i 

Another source of di=couragemeu~ — I should rather s y perhaps 
difference — is an improper estimate qfike . / education. There- 
are some in everv school, and perhaps Si every . -. who have fixed upon 
a course of life, in wh: eh it is -apposed th:.' - i i 

education, are just about nominaL Of what advantage, it is -: . 

are Latin. Greek. Algebra, md the like, tc \ farmer or a mechanic Tl 
habit of depressing the value of education — ... mere especial! this] . 
t ice of pursuing it without reference : : its utility, m never fail to_produce 
their effect;. Ke vrho pursues an object merely as a thing of nominal 
value — as a mere matter of ornament or convenience, will never pursu 
it ivith much interest or much success, lie who studies Latin. G 
and Algebra, with no idea of giving them his attention, or of making them 
useful in subsequent life, will never study either with much pleasure er 
with much profit. • 

The appropriate remedy for the eril ofv hicb I now speak, is at - 
sideration like this : — 1\~: man can tell how or where his lot may be 
?»othing is more uncertain or delusire than human •:.. jns in regard 

to the future. "Many are the uevi?:; :. a :_..:.'- heart, but the counsel 
pfthe L : : I that shall si u 1." Inal rgt m jority jf cases, the :ours 
human life turns cut vastly different from what was planned and expect- 
ed in the pahnv hours of youth. Thonsan Is have blessed God, amid the 
. . :_les of real life, for the scanty education acquired without ; .-:.; 
concern, and perhaps without their l z ; nt. i^hiie multitudes have cur- 
sed the folly of their youth, for having negh ted opportunities which 
might have been freely enjoyed and successfully improved. Be assured, 
young gentlemen, vou know not what lies before you. Gf thesoterri- 
alities of this world, grye me leave ; ay, you can flow scarcely form a 
conception. "Where you at present see only gilded palaces and enchant- 
ed castles, in. all probability you will find rained hopes and blasted ex- 
pectations; and instead of commanding the treasures of the rich 01 th 
titles of the great, you may have a pressing demand for all your resc fir- 
es both of body and of mind. 

Having adverted to some of the circumstances which are liatle to .'.'.-- 
courage the student in the pursuit of knowledge, I shall proceed in the 
next place, and more particularly, to call your attention to the means of 
attaining the object in view — to those practical observances which are 
indispensable to successful effort in the acquisition of ieamiiir. 

And here, at the cutset, I must be allowed to insist c.n a point, which 
can never be insisted on too much. It is this : Whatever you Itara, be 
sure end learn irell. It is an easy matter tj go ahead. Of reading I : . 
as well as of making them, there is no end. Nothing is more conveni ut. 

or more common, with . lull jr indolent student, than tc permit li 

" be dragged along by his class — tt slip over dark and diffic 



6 

with the hope of finding things more easy as time and study advance.— 
Bui if this method has its conveniences, it has also its inconveniencies : 
and I must add, its grievous and ruinous disadvantages. He who per- 
mits himself to pass superficially over his studies, with the hope of find- 
ing things more easy as he proceeds, will find himself mistaken. By fail- 
ing fully to understand a preceeding branch of study, he will necessarily 
be disquallihed for the understanding of that Avhich follows it. And the 
farther this process is carried, the more the embarrassments will be mul- 
tiplied and aggravated. The necessary consequence will be, the student 
will soon grow discouraged. His studies, always laborious and perplex- 
ing, will soon become a subject of loathing and disgust; and, if not aban- 
doned in despair, as a matter of impractical attainment, will be pursued 
eventually without profit and without success. Be assured, no one can 
ever become a thorough schollar, who allows himself to indulge in the 
habit of passing lightly or superficially over any part of his studies. But, 
on the contrary, he who strictly obeys the injunction in hand — who makes 
it a point to pass by nothing until well understood, will find his path be- 
come more luminous and more pleasant at every stage of his progress.- — 
By doing well the work of to-day, he will be qualified for the work of 
to-morrow. By thoroughly comprehending that which goes before, he 
will be prepared to comprehend with ease that which folloAvs after. His 
progress in time and in study, will then be a progress in knowledge and 
understanding. Under such circumstances, the ways of learning, like 
those of heavenly wisdom, he will find to be ways of pleasantness and 
peace. And at the end of his academical career, he will be sure of there- 
ward, with which careful study and unwearied toil never fail to crown 
their votaries. 

As a matter intimately connected with the foregoing, and in every case 
perhaps indispensable to its observance, I must be allowed to mention, in 
the next place, the necessity of application. And although it has doubt- 
less been urged upon your attention a thousand times before, I cannot 
consent to let it pass without a transient remark here. 

I am aware that there are some who can make respectable headway 
in their classes for a time, without labor and without much attention. 
Uncommon advantages in early education, extraordinary precocity in in- 
tellectual endoAvment, or perhaps superior advancement in literary at- 
tainment, may, each or all of them, contribute to this result. But what- 
ever the cause, or whatever the advantage of this apparent fecundity of 
intellect, it can never be sustained long nor successfully without applica- 
tion. In a vast number of cases, perhaps I should not err were I to say 
in a majority of cases, it proves a snare to its possessor. Accustomed to 
rely on his well-known tact in mastering the difficulties of study, he is 
prone to contract habits of inattention and of indolence, which, if not 
seasonably arrested, must prove greatly disastrous in the end. Hence it 
has often happened, that tho^e whose career at the outset was full of tin- 



common promise, have, been eventually left far in the rear by those who 
were considered vastly their inferiors. 

Of this, my young friends, you may rest assured ; — there is no such 
thing as enduring success in study — there is no such thing as thorough 
scholarship — there is no such thing as eminence in any department of 
literature — without habitual and laborious application. Individuals, like 
blazing meteors, have sometimes attracted the public gaze for a season, 
by the mere brilliance of their talents, without labor and without study, 
but like meteors they have soon ceased to be seen. All who have ever 
arrived at eminence, whether in the arts, or in the learned professions, or 
in the humbler and more useful walks of life, have marked their way 
thither by assiduous and persevering industry. On this point let no one 
deceive himself. Let no one presume to hope for distinction without an 
application which feels no weariness, which knows no cessation. 

It is not to be inferred, however, from the unmeasured and unqualified 
terms in which I have insisted on the necessity of application, that I am 
disposed to allow no space for relaxation. The truth is, the latter is as 
indispensable as the former. The mind is as easily fatigued, and as cer- 
tain of exhaustion, by incessant effort, as is the body. And I have not a 
doubt that a person may as effectually defeat his object by an application 
too intense, as by an application too feeble and unsteady. 

There are probably few students Avho have not observed, on resuming 
their studies, the admirable effects of a protracted season of relaxation.— 
At such time the mind was like the body of a strong man prepared to run 
a race. Every power was nerved and stimulated for action. The con- 
tents of books were devoured with an avidity like that with which a hungry 
man devours his food. And, to continue the figure, the most difficult 
points in study were digested with an ease and efficiency resembling that 
Avith which the organs of nature overcome the severest crudities of nu- 
triment. Every thing was made to give place to study ; and application, 
unceasing application, became the order of the day. 

They who have observed this, however, have not failed to observe 
mote. They have observed, that, in process of time — in the space per- 
haps' of a few months — their circumstances become vastly changed. — 
They have observed that, instead of a relish for study, there was satiety ; 
and instead of mental elasticity, there were weakness and obtuseness. — 
The smallest difficulties in study became serious obstacles ; and applica- 
tion 'Was found to be a drudgery and a task. 

Now, the cause of all- this is to be found in over strained effort — in the 
want of an application seasonably relieved by repose and recreation. As 
the orga ns of the stomach are soon impaired by too much food — as the 
functions of the physical system are soon worn out by too much labor — so 
the powe rs of the mind are soon broken down by too close application to 
study. 'The appropriate remedy in each case, is equally obvious and 
; #§u[aily (\ ^rtairv. Let -The- cruise be removed and the effect will cease. Let 



s 

the laboring man take repose, and exhausted nature will revive. Let the 
worn out student cease from his books, and the prostrate energies of his 
mind will soon become erect. 

The evil of which I speak may be easily avoided by proper discretion a1 
ihe outset. Let relaxation — not actual repose, so much as corporeal exer- 
cise — be blended with study in due proportions from the commencement, 
and all will be well. Let the student take his recreation as certainly and 
as regularly as lie takes his food, or his night's rest, and the exercises 
of the study will only increase the activity of his mind, and impart a 
keener zest for the acquisition of knowledge. 

I have intimated that the recreation required is exercise of body rather 
than repose — rather than a simple cessation from study. I have no time 
to enter upon the reason of this ; and if I had, it would probably be of but 
little consequence. This much however I may say — that my own ex- 
perience and observation fully warrant the conviction, that two hours of 
corporeal exercise, which requires the attention and co-operation of the 
mind, are of more value to the student than double the time spent in 
listless inactivity. And I am the more confident in the statement of this 
belief, because I am assured that it will be fully sustained by those who 
have made the experiment for themselves. 

It is to this principle that our manual labor seminaries are indebted 
for their peculiar excellence and utility. Those seasons of relaxation, 
which, in ordinary schools, the industrious student will devote to his books, 
and which the more indolent will spend in idleness, all are here compelled 
to employ in the field or in the workshop. Neither the kind nor the 
quantity of the student's recreation is left to his own discretion. Everr 
thing of this sort is as much a matter of regulation and of obligation, as 
the period and character of his studies. And if the laws prescribing the 
duties of this department are founded in wisdom, as they may be, and 
of course ought to be, it is easy to see that institutions of this description 
possess advantages, and claims to philosophical adaptation, to which no 
other seminaries can make pretensions. 

It has been objected to seminaries of the description of which I /now 
speak, that they necessarily draw the mind of the student away from 
study. This is readily admitted. And this, I must add, is one #>f the 
principal advantages of the system. As has been intimated, the mind re- 
quires relief no less than the body. And accordingly that relaxation, be 
i of what kind it may, which does not withdraw the mind from the/routine 
of study, and give a fresh and agreeable turn to the thoughts, wi$ do but 
little good. The mind of a devoted student Avill as naturally and ks inevi- 
tably return to the object of pursuit, as the magnetic needle tunis to the 
pole. His books may be closed and out of view, but his thought/s, unless 
otherwise engaged, will be with them. And if his thoughts be! with his 
"books, and poring upon the subject of study, he might about as [well be at 
his desk. His faculties will obtain but little relief; and when he resumes 



his studies, it will be with uie same dutafetS and obtuseness with which 
he laid them down. 

If this be correct, it must follow that that kind of recreation which 
most effectually attracts the thoughts from the matter of studious exer- 
cise, for the time being, will always be found to answer its purpose best. 
And if it be true, as the objection supposes, and as I believe it is, that 
the exercise of manual labor does have this tendency, then, this fact af- 
fords proof that it answers well its end ; and that, instead of being regard- 
ed in the light of an objection, it should be set down 33 a matter of high 
and peculiar commendation. 

It has been often observed by those who have philosophised on the 
subject, that, to preserve a healthy and pleasant action in the system^ 
a due equilibrium should be maintained between the exercise of the mind 
and that of the body. That is, that in all cases where the mind is exercis- 
ed severely, there should be a corresponding severity in the exercise of the 
body. If this be true — and that it is I can see no reason to doubt — then 
it follows that the very hardships which are experienced in our manu- 
al labour schools, are to be enumerated among their greatest advantages : 
and not only so, but as advantages peculiar to seminaries of this descrip- 
tion alone. Where, allow me to inquire, can you find the severe, the. 
manly, the invigorating exercise, in all the walks of science and of lite- 
rature, which is provided for in seminaries of the kind of which I now 
treat? And what, I must be permitted to ask further— is there to be 
found in all the gentle amusements to be witnessed on college greens, 
and in academic groves, which can compare with the manly, refreshing, 
renovating exercise to be found in these fields ? Were I required to give 
proof that there is truth in this suggestion, I would appeal to the ruddy 
complexions, and the athlectic forms of those whom I address. And 
might I not add — I would appeal to the literary exercises habitually wit- 
nessed in these halls 1 

There is also another instrumentality which may be regarded as an 
auxiliary to successful effort in the acquisition of knowledge, which, on an 
occasion like this, ought not to be passed over in silence. I refer to e.mv.'- 
lation — to that principle of honorable competition, founded in a desire to 
excel, which is common to all classes of men, and which constitutes one 
of the strongest incentives to human action. 

I am aware that in this day of ultra improvement — of sublimation 
in morals and religion more particularly — an attempt has been made to 
discard emulation, as a principle of unhallowed influence, which is in- 
compatible with good morals, and wholly unworthy of a place in semi- 
naries of learning. That this principle is frequently abused — that it is 
often carried to extremes — that it is sometimes allowed to lay the foun- 
dation of jealousies, animosities, feuds, and bitter revalries, is not to be 
doubted. But what principle, I would ask, or what policy, is not capable 
nf abuse? Most, unquesfionablv. if the fbet that a principle is capable of 



being carried to eStreme'sj and is thereby sometimes rendered productive 
of unhappy consequences, is to be received as proof of its evil character and 
tendency, it is difficult to tell what good or useful thing is known among 
us, which may not, and which must not be condemned on the same 
ground. 

That honorable emulation is consistent, not with sound morals only, but 
with the temper and disposition of the christian religion also, is conclu- 
sively obvious from the well-known precept of the apostle — "Covet ear- 
nestly the best gifts" — that is, strive to excel your brethren, in the attain- 
ment of useful and honorable acquirements. That this principle is very 
frequently received and acted on without disturbing the foundations or 
cooling the ardor of private friendship, no one will deny. That it is a 
principle constantly operating and generally allowed and encouraged in 
all the different relations and departments of life, i9 equally beyond the 
reach of a doubt. That it is a principle deeply laid in the original con 
stitution of man, will be questioned, it is thought, by few, if by any. And 
that it is, in a great measure, indispensable to the highest interests of hu- 
man society, is perhaps not less obvious or certain. Why then, I ask, 
should a r/nneiple be banished from our schools, which is allowed and 
practised every Avhere else, the utility of which is universally acknowl- 
edged, and the morality of which is established by the highest possible au- 
thority ? 

But while I commend the principle of honorable emulation — while I say 
to you as the apostle said to the Corinthians, " Covet earnestly the best 
gifts'' — zealously contend for the highest attainments — I must be permit- 
ted to add a word of caution. It is this : Contend fairly, honorably, chari- 
tably. Allow no place to those envyings, jealousies, and wranglings which 
can exist only in a morbid disposition, which are wholly unworthy of the 
halls of science, and which have no necessary or proper connexion with 
manly competition. And above all, never resort to artifice, nor to any 
unfair or unmanly means to secure an advantage. Recollect that every 
one has an equal right to excel if he can, and that he who fairly and 
honorably outdoes you, is entitled to your respect and good- will — not your 
envy and hostility. 

These last remarks apply no less to societies than to individuals. — 
Litery associations, formed to rival each other in scientific attainment, 
have been long in use, and their advantages have been long known and 
acknowlegded. The principle on which they are made to operate, and to 
which they are mainly indebted for their utility, is the very principle 
which I have commended — the principle of honorable emulation. Such are 
ihe Societies which I have the pleasure on the present occasion to address. 
Will you then permit me to repeat to you, in your associated capacity, 
what I have just spoken to you as individuals? In all your contests for 
literary pre-eminence, avoid every thing that is little, low, or mean; eve- 
,.ry thing that has an aspect of cunning or craft ; every thing that savors 



11 

of a disposition to take undue advantage ; and every thing tending to the 
formation of unholy or unfriendly affections. On the contrary, let all your 
contests be distinguished by the fairness, the generosity, the magnani- 
mity of ancient chivalry ; and let all your intercourse, -whether private or 
official, be marked by the courtesy and kindness of gentlemen and chris- 
tians. 

There is one other topic, though last in order, by no means least in im- 
portance, to which I must be permitted to call your attention — I allude 
to the christian religion. 

I am aware that an impression extensively prevails that the religion of 
he New Testament is adapted only to the unenlightened and the weak- 
minded. And it is much to be regretted that this opinion is extensively 
cherished in seminaries oi learning. Young men, but little more acquain- 
ted with the religion of Christ, than with that of the false prophet, are apt 
to think that they can display their erudition, their strength of mind, and 
their freedom and independence of thought, by speaking disrespectfully of 
the Bible. And hence the stale calumnies of Hume, Voltaire, and others 
of the same school, are often repeated with as much confidence as though 
they had never been refuted, and with as much complacency as if they 
constituted the very climax of literary pre-eminence. 

This is no place to enter upon an argument on the subject ; and if it 
were, my present limits would not permit. I must be allowed to say, 
however, that of all the pedants I have ever seen or known, an infidel 
pedant is the most pitiful and the most disgusting. A young man, a mere 
boy, just entering the field of knowledge, whose views on all subjects are 
necessarily crude and imperfect,and yet presuming to decide where hoary 
headed wisdom has been silent, and to condemn where such men as Locke 
and Newton have approved, is an object which no man of reflection can 
contemplate without emotions of pity and indignation. If angels ever 
weep, it appears to me, it must be when they witness an object like this. 

Should I happen to be addressing, on the present occasion, any at all 
given to scepticism, my earnest advice to such would be this : Suspend 
your opinion on the spot ; and before you proceed to form another conclu- 
sion, or even another thought, unfavorable to Christianity, make yourself 
master of the subject. Study the scriptures — their origin, their history, 
their unity, their harmony, their prophecies, their miracles, their doctrines, 
their moral precepts, their high and holy purposes, and above all, their 
wonderful adaptation to the ends proposed. Examine impartially what 
has been written in their defence, as well as what has been written against 
them. Consider well the character of their opposers — their morals, their 
learning, their reputation, their value to mankind, and above all their de- 
portment in the hour of death ; and with these contrast, in the same re- 
spects, the character of those who have been their advocates and adherents. 
And when you ean be sure that you comprehend the whole ground— that 
you are fully master of the entire subject— -if yen can be s3UsS?3 : 'hat <h ■> 



12 

C-\ idence m favor of Christianity is- indeed unworthy of confidence, then, 
feject it — bat not till then. Any decision against the gospel short of this, 
must be pronounced, and will be pronounced by every man of candor and 
discernment, as unreasonable — as inconsistent with the dictates of phi- 
losophy and common sense — as it must be perilous and profane. 

It should be distinctly understood, however, that the duty now recom- 
mended, is not a mere matter of speculation — a mere question of science— 
which may be settled or left unsettled without advantage and without 
peril. On the contrary, it is a question of life and salvation — and upon 
your decision respecting it, depend the joys or sorrows of the world to 
come. It is indeed a question in relation to which no man can be indiffer- 
ent or undecided with impunity. It is one in regard to which all neutrali 
ty is clearly out of the question. Not to believe here is to disbelieve ; and 
no? to receive is to reject. And to disbelieve and reject, is to set aside 
the only means of deliverance, and to incur the fuD weight of divine in- 
dignation and wrath. 

If these remarks be correct— and that they are I am sure there is no 
room for a doubt — then the subject of religion claims your first, your most 
earnest and solemn attention. If it be true that the soul is of more im- 
portance than the body, and that the interests of eternity are of more 
fearful magnitude than those of time, then whatever relates to these, must 
unquestionably demand the earliest and most active attention. And if it 
be true, as it undeniably is, that every hour's delay connected with this 
point, is necessarily attended with uncertainty and peril, it is easy to see 
that there is not a moment to be lost. He who delays or procrastinates 
here, does it at the enormous hazard of life and immortality. The only 
safety which the case can admit, is to be found in prompt and decisive 
action-— in an immediate submission to the demands of the gospel — an 
unreserved surrender to the king of saints. 

May I be indulged while I expatiate on this point a moment longer ? — 
I regard the matter as vastly momentous, and am therefore unwilling to 
pass it over with a single remark. My appeal is to your understandings 
and your hearts. Who is- there in this assembly, who docs not know, 
and who will not promptly and freely admit, that there are at least ninety- 
nine probabilities to one, that of those who are now members of this In- 
stitute, there are some who will never reach the age of manhood? If this 
be admitted, then the question must arise with the most solemn and ex- 
citing interest — Who is to form the exception ? Of the blooming youth 
whom I now address, who is he whom death has marked as an early 
prey— -who is even now treading en the confines of the grave, and whose 
joyous hopes and glowing anticipations are destined to be so soon ex- 
tinct forever 7 ? This is a question which none can solve but him who 
holds the keys of death and the grave. And it is this circumstance — this 
•'earful uncertainty — which brings the inquiry home to every one's door — 
fo r^-p-rv one's heart. No ore can throw iiside the dreadful liability and 



13 

say— -I am not the person. For ought that men or angels knov. v , it may 
be you — it may be you — it may be you. Here, then, is the considera- 
tion — solemn and impressive and startling as the grave — which shows the 
necessity for immediate and effectual action — for an instantaneous prepa- 
ration for death, and for all the momentous exigences which must en- 
sue* And here, too, is the consideration — as religion is allowed to be 
the only sure preparative for a future state — here is the consideration 
which demonstrates the necessity of immediate reconciliation to God, the 
Redeemer and Savior of the world. As you value your peace in your 
last hour, therefore ; as you value your safety and well-being in a future 
world ; as you appreciate the everlasting friendship and favor of Heaven ; 
and as you deprecate the unending and incomprehensible woes of the 
finally impenitent, beware how you disregard this momentous lesson of 
philosophy, of experience, and of common sense. 

But, perhaps, you are ready to inquire — What has all this to do with 
the matter in hand? What has the christian religion to do with the 
prosecution of successful study in the acquirement of a literary education ? 
I answer — Much every way. Religion lies at the foundation of every in 
terest of man, and should accordingly distinguish and influence and di- 
rect his first steps in every pursuit. — " Seek first the kingdom of God and 
his righteousness," said infinite wisdom personified, " and all these things 
shall be added": — that is, all subordinate interests 6hall thereby be pro- 
moted and secured. So strongly impressed with this principle — that is 
the principle of religious influence — have mankind ever been, that, how- 
ever sunk in barbarism, ignorance, and crime, all important undertakings 
were habitually commenced by solemn acts of religion — by offerings made 
the Gods with a view of propitiating that power supreme, which their rea- 
son told them was indispensable to the success of their undertakings. — 
" Because thou hast asked this thing," said Jehovah to the youthful king 
of Israel, " and has not asked for thyself long life ; neither hast asked 
riches for thyself, nor hast asked the life of thy enemies: but hast asked 
for thyself understanding to discern judgement ; behold I have done ac- 
cording to thy words : lo, I have given thee a wise and an understanding 
heart ; so that there was none like unto thee before thee, neither after thee 
shall any arise like unto thee." 1 Kings 3. 4. I cannot, I need not enlarge. 
Those whom I address, I am persuaded, can be at no loss to see how inti<- 
mately connected must be the love and fear and obedience of God — the 
sole arbiter and disposer of human destiny — with all the interests of man, 
both temporal and eternal. 

Having occupied the full extent of my claims upon your attention, I 
must here conclude my discussion. In view of the whole, let no one de- 
spond — let no one be cast down nor discouraged, because his talent9 
seem less promising than those of others. On the contrary, let him take 
courage from the experience of multitudes ; and remembering that what 
man has done man may do again, let him gird himself afresh, and ply 



14 

his labor with augmented vigor. Disdaining an imperfect and superficial 
knowledge of things, what he learns let him leam well. Let his applica- 
tion be unwearied, but let it be judiciously tempered with seasonable and 
appropriate relaxation. Stimulated by an honorable and commendable 
ambition, let him fix his mark high on the roll of pre-eminence, and let 
him never faint nor falter until he shall attain it. But above all, let him 
not forget that man is born to die, that on earth there is no continuing 
city, that there can be no abiding happiness where there is not virtue, 
and that there is no salvation for the guilty but by faith in the blood of 
the Covenant. 



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